Shadow of Wanheda
by Eastbound Traveller
Summary: Things happen a little differently in space. Clarke ends up on the surface, broken and truly alone, becoming Wanheda long before the rest of 100 come down. What effect will Wanheda have on the growing Alliances between the clans? How will the commander Lexa fix the broken woman who seems to be integral to everything?
1. Chapter 1: End of her World

Chapter 1

"You're going to die screaming, you sadistic bitch!" It was painful to say. It was painful to do anything, but through gritted teeth, the promise was made.

Dr Tsing simply sighed in response, "contrary to what you might think, I receive no enjoyment from this."

"Are you saying that for yourself or the cameras?" The man broke into coughs, struggling to breathe for a moment. "You don't feel a thing, you crazy mad scientist."

"Whatever you say Mr-"

"But I'll teach you to feel something," the dying man interrupted. "Fear. Because Clark is going to kill you all, and you're going to die screaming." Lifting his head as much as the restraints and his straining muscles would allow, the man tied to the table gave a haunting mad smile to finish off his point.

"Classic delusional fantasies," the doctor smoothly replied, rolling her eyes. "We've already got all the bone marrow we can from you, thank you for your contribution to remaking society."

"Bitch," the man hissed as Dr Tsing walked out of the room and he collapsed back onto the table.

Watching the whole exchange were the imprisoned grounders. Caged like animals, they had survived longer than most, as the mountain men had been focused on their new captives.

Most had given up hope of living the moment they were captured. Many more gave up as they were starved and bled. But there was one, a grounder who's eyes still shone with a sharpness that the rest lacked.

Anya would not be broken. As a general of the Tree Crew, she would not allow herself to be.

"Hey," Anya's eyes flicked up to the dying man on the table but gave no other response. "I know you can understand me," another coughing fit interrupted his gruff statement. "I've met other Trikru. I want you to do me a favour."

That was ridiculous. Absolutely absurd. How was she meant to do anything while starved in this cage? But Anya could tell this man's journey was soon to end, hearing his final request would do her no harm. "What."

"These guys are real animals, aren't they?" Anya didn't reply, she didn't expect he wanted her to, simply listen. "They killed us. All of us, except Clarke. And what they're doing to you… monstrous."

Pity sprung from Anya's gut. This man and those taken with him were killed slowly. It wasn't just them dying, it was an entire Kru's culture. Several smaller Kru existed, spread out in and around the other territories. Less so now; long ago many joined together to make the larger clans.

What terror it must be to know your Kru died with you. No matter what happened here, Anya knew the Trikru would live in without her. But this man's Kru was now but a single person, all but impossible to rebuild.

"Clarke's going to kill them," he continued. "She's going to make sure they die screaming, soon…. But I don't think I'm going to last that long."

The man's hope was likely misplaced; no one breached the mountain. Armies had tried, commanders had failed. His second statement seemed accurate, though if the spluttering coughs and tired eyes could be taken as signs.

"I want you to tell her something," he half begged, staring into her soul. "When she comes, I want you to tell her-"

Screams. Loud, unhinged, terrible screams of pain echoed through the mountain. No one in the room had to struggle to hear them as it seemed dozens of people were crying out in agony.

Then… nothing.

"Well, never mind then." Anya's eyes darted back to the man on the table. On his face was a broad, unwavering smile, and even his face looked lighter. Closing his eyes, the man laid back, as if basking in the summer sun contently. "Guess Clarke made it."

Wide-eyed, Anya looked around to make sure she wasn't the only one hearing this. There was no way this, Clarke, had really…

It was impossible.

It couldn't be done.

A long minute of silence dragged on. No-one was willing to speak in fear that it would shatter the illusion of their captor's deaths. When the silence was broken, the gathered prisoners thought just that. The door opened, everyone freezing; they feared the torturous doctor had returned.

That it was just some elaborate, unfair lie.

The person who walked in definitely wasn't the doctor. She didn't look like anyone from the mountain. The woman wore a strange combination of furs and old world clothes, much like the dying man and his friends. Although this woman's outfit was dyed a variety of different colours, ranging from black to near black, and was finished off with a hood.

The hood only revealed the bottom part of the girl, Clarke's face. Other than that, Anya could only catch a glimpse of dead blue eyes that seemed to almost glow as Clarke scanned the cages.

Spotting the man on the table, Clarke strode to his side, looking him over and clutching his hand. As she passed, Anya couldn't help but feel like something was… wrong about her. Something obvious but elusive. Anya just couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"Clarke," the man struggled to look at the girl.

"I'm here," a shiver went through Anya at that voice. It was cold, broken, and belonged to the person who would decide her fate.

"Don't blame yourself, kid." He tried to squeeze Clarke's hand, not sure if he succeeded. "They were monsters. Fucking vampires, draining people, drilling us, all so they could keep sowing misery. This is just what they deserve."

If Clarke was meant to reply, she didn't. Silently, Clarke watched as the last man on earth from the ark died.

"You're the last of us now Clarke," every word was an evident struggle, but he kept going. "It'll be hard, but show those fuckers up there and in here that we can survive anything. Live Clarke. And try… try to forgive yourself, kid."

…

"...okay."

Anya couldn't tell when the man died. A while after he did, Clarke was still holding his hand" wishing she wasn't alone in the world. The beautiful, terrible world.

"Your a fucking monster Clarke." The distinctly male voice made Anya and the other grounders jump. Looking around, they didn't see anyone else in the room when the voice erupted again from above.

"Hundreds dead Clarke, and for what? Not even a dozen of you! There are dead women and children Clarke. All for your petty fucking revenge, you monstrous-"

Gunshots filled the room. Clarke had one of the mountain men's weapons in her hand and fired shot after shot into the device. Anya would have thought Clarke was a marksman if she hadn't seen the first shot miss and half a dozen since.

The device stopped speaking after the 3rd shot, but Clarke didn't stop shooting until her gun clicked empty. Dropping the weapon, she turned back to the dead man and continued her vigil. Picking up an old-world lighter from the dead man's corpse, she started to whisper.

"In peace, may you leave the shore. In love, may you find the next. Safe passage on your travels until our final journey to the ground." Clarke's voice cracked, "may we meet again."

The speech was foreign to Anya, but its purpose was not. It wasn't the first funeral right she heard. Hopefully, it wouldn't be her last.

It took slightly too long or not long enough for the girl to turn around.

Clarke surveyed the room before levelling her cold gaze with Anya's own unflinching face.

"What's your name?" Clarke asked, coaching down to Anya's caged eye level.

Anya stayed silent and stared.

…

…

"Anya…"

"Anya," Clarke held up a set of keys. "This is how this is going to work. I'm going to let you out, then give you the keys. You will then let your people out one at a time, and they will leave mount weather through that door. When they are all out, you leave, then I leave. Understand?"

…

"Yes."

"Don't make me regret this Anya," Clarke gestured to other grounders. "Otherwise I'll have to learn someone else's name to help me."

After a moment to let her threat sink in, Clarke opened Anya's cage, dropping the keys and standing next to the dead man. Slowly, Anya let out the other grounders.

Briefly, Clark stopped Anya to hand some anti reaper device to the first person Anya let out. A loyal Trikru scout. The explanation of its use was quick and precise; before long, Anya was back rereleasing prisoners.

When the last man left, Anya stood defiantly Infront of Clarke.

"Now you leave," Clarke stated, raising an eyebrow at Anya's actions.

"The mountain is still alive." It was an accusation, glared at Clarke.

"Yes." A simple fact in response.

"We should kill them while they are still weak!"

"You would have an easier time breaching the mountain from the outside than you would reaching the survivors now." Clarke rolled her eyes as if it was obvious to a child, "they're locked down. No way for us to get them, no way for them to get to us."

Breaking a nearby pipe, a clear liquid started to flood the room, while Clarke began throwing the doctor's samples into the accelerant. Satisfied they would all be destroyed, she turned to Anya.

"Stay here and either: die a useless death once the mountain men get their feet back under them, or burn here. If you actually want to do so etching with your life," Clarke gestured at the door. "Leave now."

Clarke was close enough to punch now. It was damn tempting. But instead, Anya took a moment to really look at her saviour. She was young, younger than even Lexa, but not by much. A few strands of blonde hair escaped the hood, but the outstanding feature was her eyes.

Cold, focused, but with something writhing underneath. Anya couldn't decide if she should be afraid or concerned for the girl.

Without a word, Anya let Clarke lead her by the arm to the exit. When they reached it, Clarke didn't let go, instead staring at a strange new bulge of Anya's arm.

Biting out the tracking devices, Anya couldn't help but smirk at the apparent annoyance of Clark's face. Just knowing that something they did got to this angel of death made her much more human. So much less of a threat.

Then like that, Clark was gone.

Anya wanted to stop her, drag her back to Heda, but she couldn't. Starving and weak, the people from the cages needed her. By the time she was done organising them for the trek through the Reaper tunnels, Clark was gone. Only an empty wall greeted Anya as she turned to their saviour.

That uncomfortable feeling was there again, niggling at her skull. Why didn't she notice her leave?

Anya could have sworn she wasn't that tired.

Hours passed, scouts reported their coming long before they were anywhere near their destination. Judging by the frozen faces, the smell of burning food, and complete silence that welcomed them, they weren't believed.

Heralded as a blessing from the spirits, feats were held, nights of celebration were drank away. Why not? People had tasted blood, gods had been wounded, the fear of them brought to kneel. The mighty mountain had been wounded. Hundreds of the monsters were dead, their reach crippled for a time.

All because of one girl.

Two people though only drank as much as polite and celebrated as much as necessary. As people were returned through Polis, these two already heard the growing whispers around Clark.

Lexa and Clark were happy that the mountain couldn't get in the way of their plans to unite the clans.

But what would this new player do in the conflict needed to bring everyone together?

What would this… Wanheda, do?


	2. Chapter 2: First Impressions

**Eastbound Traveller 2019: 'O yeah, I'll have a couple new chapters out for the 100 stories by 2020 easy!'**

**Eastbound Traveller 2020: '...oops?'**

**Warning by the way, I do all my editing/ bold text writing at 1-6 AM. Embrace the insanity.**

**Okay, I admit I underestimated Christmas and its amazing ability to ruin any and all plans I had. Also I underestimated my bodies ability not to get ill, but I'm having words with it later. Well, know that none of my stories are abandoned, ever. I just have literally no focus, thus must write 20 at a time.**

**Now to comment on comments:**

**Massif, DJDRAKE, David12leca, Guest(you know who you are): Thank you, hope you like this chapter too.**

**KHARAKI TAKAN: Thank you, your questions will be answered in later chapters. Sorry about the Clarke thing, I try to catch it but that e at the end keeps getting me. That and the spelling of Gustus (I keep typing Gustos). I try to go back in editing to make sure it's fixed but sometimes forget. As for feeling like this story started in the middle, that was intentional. While nowhere near halfway through, things have already happened, the story doesn't start on page one :). What has happened may be revealed as Clarke or other people who know decide to share them with Lexa and others. We will have to see.**

**FemNarutoXGaara00: Clarke is a special killer snowflake, I like fics that embrace this. of course she will be capable but not OP (at least I hope not), also the burden of things she's done wills till effect her. A lot... But yeah, alone, she's pretty good. With Lexa, maybe she could be better? Who knows :).**

**DireLegendz: I'm glad you're confused. At least I hope you're confused in the right way, by not knowing information I've withheld instead of me badly presenting information I've revealed. Cannon episode 1 is a while away, I have a neat pre cannon story and mystery is a neat little part of it :). Then Cannon will happen, the story won't end when things start falling.**

**Welp, without further ado, let's see how our favourite Commander is doing.**

Chapter 2:

Slashing away another enemy, Lexa cursed her luck.

Returning from one clan that seemed receptive to the idea of the coalition, she just had to be ambushed by another that wasn't.

Beneath the carnage and slaughter, Lexa was seething; she couldn't help but wonder who leaked their plan. Whoever it was, their inevitably bloody fate would have to wait.

The attacking force had been numerous, but not insurmountable. Whoever it was, they only brought the men who they could sneak into Trikru lands, a do or die strike of opportunity. While they were succeeding at the 'die' part Lexa's men also suffered loses.

Gustus was cradling a bleeding arm, crushing the skull of one attacker before limping to Anya's side. Before they could start making their way towards Lexa more raiders fell upon them. Forcing them apart further and further, the enemy encircled her generals as the last of Lexa's bodyguards fell.

Dispatching her latest attacker, Lexa breathed deeply, observing there were only a couple left. They had underestimated her, investing too many men in cutting Lexa off and not enough to kill her. It was a mistake she'd make them regr-

Looking down, Lexa saw an arrow protruding from her chest. For a moment, the commander was genuinely dumbfounded. A moment capitalised on as a second arrow pierced her thigh, forcing her to one knee.

The last two Lexa could see, other than the archer, charged at her; trying to finish off the commander. Both were surprised when in a burst of movement, Lexa had beheaded one and slashed the throat of the other. Idiots.

Throwing her sword, Lexa saw the archer fall but couldn't focus on it. Out of the corner of her eye she saw something. Reacting, Lexa through up her arm, an arrow piercing it instead of finding purchase in Lexa's eye.

Unfortunately, the momentum took Lexa onto her injured leg that buckled, sending her toppling to the ground. As the feeling of exhaustion, blood loss, and more than likely poison dimmed her eyes Lexa watched her killer.

He was pleased with himself, unprofessionally gleeful. Although Lexa's eyes were too blurry to see his face, she could tell he was smiling. It was in how he stood. How he took in her fallen form for a few moments too long. How he drew back the final arrow just a little too slowly.

Lexa could feel him smiling even as his body fell. The arrow loosed landing wide while the shadow that fell upon the archer dashed towards her.

Another breath and two blurs flew over Lexa's head, a body falling inches from her moments later. Then the shadow was upon her. Lexa tried to hold up her hands in some meagre resistance.

If the shadow noticed, it was ignored.

* * *

"Lexa!" Where was she? "Lexa?"

"We can't find her amongst the dead general." Shit.

"Anya!" Turning, the general marched towards the voice until she entered a clearing with a few scattered bodies. Coaching in the centre was the form of someone she trusted with Lexa's life, Gustus. "Night blood."

Although his voice was calm, Anya could tell the Gustus was near the edge of panic. Only their purpose kept him focused. Looking down to where Gustus was crouching, Anya did see a few specks of what was more than likely Lexa's blood.

"She's wounded," ignoring the arrow next to the blood, for now, Anya checked the bodies.

Pulling a sword out of one, the general recognised it anywhere. "She threw her sword."

"After dispatching most of these," Gustus nodded before frowning. "But not this one." Pulling out a knife from one of the corpses closest to the blood, Gustus examined the blade. "This isn't one of hers," in fact; it looked pre-war.

Tracking the arrow, Anya found the second archer. "This one was shooting her… but was killed from behind."

"... The blood trails off that way."

Neither general had to voice their thoughts; the order may have been different, but the ideas identical.

Had Lexa been saved?

Had her body been stolen?

Was she kidnapped alive?

Was she safe?

Was she in danger?

"General," both veterans turned to the scout that had interrupted their thoughts. The young scout seemed to almost shrink under their gaze but he pressed forward. "There's a village in that direction, maybe a few miles away."

"Why don't I know this?" Anya demanded.

"It's rather new," the scout swallowed. "Only being made recently, maybe just over a year ago."

Had a hunter helped Lexa? Or maybe a patrol?

"Gustus," Anya watched the man stand as he acknowledged her. "I'm taking a few men to that village. Find a prisoner and drag him after us; one of them must still be breathing."

"I'm coming with you." Anya would usually appreciate his loyalty, glad that Lexa had such a dedicated bodyguard who wouldn't rest until she's found.

But right now. Anya. Did. Not. Have. Time.

Kicking Gustus in his injured leg, Anya watched without humour as he toppled like a great tree. "You would only slow me down." Placing her hand on his shoulder, Anya looked him in the eye. "I will find her, keep her safe, or I'll have more hands who know the area to look. Either way, when we find Lexa, she will want to know who attacked her."

A beat of silence stretched between them as Gustus glared before nodding.

In a blur of movement was shouting orders, leaving towards the village barely a few moments later.

* * *

"Of course you agree, you're an idiot."

…

"It doesn't matter if I'd do it, it wasn't my choice."

…

"But it wasn't."

…

"Because I'm always right."

…

"You're too afraid to be in the same room as her now, and you want to-. Nevermind, there's no talking to you when you're like this, just hide in your corner, I'll deal with it."

Relaxing her body, Lexa watched through her eyelashes as the louder person entered the cave. Something felt wrong about the way she moved, but Lexa didn't let her body tense, as long as the woman thought she was asleep she had an advantage.

"I know you're awake idiot."...Lexa didn't move; it could have been a bluff. "I'm not bluffing idiot, or are you deaf as well as dumb."

Letting out a calming breath, Lexa fully opened her eyes, not knowing what the stranger would do if she didn't.

The iron mask that greeted her forced Lexa to stifle a gasp. Eyes widening was the only visual sign of her surprise as Lexa traced every carved line of the beautiful steely facade. Beautiful yet terrible.

The mask was one of the worst punishments the Boudalankru (the rock line clan) bestowed on their slaves. It was sculpted to hug every contour of a slave's face before being applied, still red hot from the forge. Eye holes, and slits just big enough to breath were the only spaces. Every day, the mask had to be removed to eat before being put back on, often salted.

Although the masks were usually blank, or with just a sign of ownership, this woman must have been an important slave to have such an intricate mask, but surprisingly the mask wasn't what made Lexa stare. Cold, pale blue pools stared into her spirit, freezing it, evaluating every facet like one would any other tool.

"Sit up," the slave ordered, pulling Lexa up and leaning her against the wall. Lexa tempted to resist, but given how heavy her arms felt it would be like a child attacking a pauna. Amusing, yet ultimately a terrible idea.

Given how the slave wasn't actively trying to hurt her, Lexa would play along for now. Bide her time.

"Eat," the dark-robed individual pushed a bowl of what looked like porridge into Lexa's chest. As Lexa took a second too long to decide whether or not to risk eating, the slave forced a spoonful into her mouth. "Eat, idiot," mask stated, dropping the bowl into Lexa's lap before walking away.

"Oh look at me," the masked woman muttered as she settled with her back to Lexa next to the fire. "I'm a wounded warrior, the person who could have killed me in my sleep is offering food. Better not eat it! That person who took hours to get me comfortable in their own cave while my wounds were bandaged might poison me. I better make sure how ungrateful I am for that woman's wicked ways."

"Do you often talk to yourself?"

"It speaks!" Her captor exclaimed not turning around. Lexa stopped slowly eating as she realised the iron mask was now on the floor. "More than you'd expect," she answered while methodically consuming her own meal.

This masked woman wasn't a slave.

No slave punished with the iron mask could take it off themselves; it's chained around their head. Had this woman escaped? Maybe a more… friendly response would get more information.

"Thank you. For tending to my wounds," Lexa said, putting down her finished bowl.

"I didn't."

…

…

"Then who did?" Lexa asked after it was clear mask wasn't going to continue. "I'd like to thank them too."

In reply, the woman snorted. Literally snorted! If Lexa were less controlled, she would be reconsidering trying to bludgeon this girl. "Clarke patched you up," she stated, placing her mask back on. "And you won't be meeting her."

Masked, her capture stood walking towards Lexa, who was about to ask why then the corners of her vision started to darken. Already weak limbs began to grow sluggish.

"Yo..u… thhh...foooood," Lexa slurred looking at the empty bowl.

"Go to sleep idiot," Mask gently tucked Lexa in. "You're going to need to get better. Soon."

* * *

"No."

"What do you mean, no?" Anya briefly wondered if bludgeoning this man would get the rest to help. Probably not, but it might be worth a try.

"I mean, no, we are not going to lead you to her." The long-haired man crossed his arms as he stared down the general. "If the commander is alive, she'll turn up soon enough. If she is dead, then her body will."

Anya gritted her teeth. This village was not what she expected. Firstly, almost everyone here had a warriors build. Not uncommon among her people but the ratio was definitely off in this village.

Then there was the fact they knew where Lexa was… and refused to take them to her.

"She is your commander," Anya argued.

"And she is in good hands." The man shot back, still unflinching. At his back, his people looked torn. "The healer will either save her or deliver the commander's corpse."

Fighting the urge to cut this man's throat Anya bit out another comment. "Does this healer hold your loyalty more than your commander?"

"Yes," the village leader stepped forward, now close enough for Anya to rip out his throat in a moment. "The healer in the caves holds the unspent life debt of everyone in this village."

...

Fuck. Anya stalled at that. Looking beyond the villages large leader, she saw not one face deny his statement. Life debts were a matter of honour and duty, not something to be cast aside because of threats.

"With or without you," Anya started in a more even tone. "My men will search for the cave. If they find it, their duty to keep their commander safe may endanger your healer." Weapons could be seen in the hands of some villages now, tension filling the air.

"You will n-"

"But," Anya interrupted. "If you lead us there, you have my word no harm will come to your healer. Our only desire is to see the commander safe."

It was a different approach, not one Anya was particularly keen on but if it got her to Lex.

Turning to his people, the leader seemed to have a silent communion with his perhaps two dozen villagers. The last he looked at were a pair of twins, the first to pick up weapons against Anya. Only when they nodded did the leader turn back to Anya.

"It is getting dark, and the path can be treacherous," he sighed. "In the morning, I will take you and a few men to the cave. You will cause no harm to the healer." Anya bristled at the command. Not to mention the idea of waiting for the sun to rise. "Then you will leave with your commander," he finished with a pointed stare.

"Agreed," soon enough her men were settled in for the night. Anya didn't sleep though; she couldn't, not while Lexa was gone.

Gustus was going to be pissed when he arrived.

…

And he was.

Rising well before the sun, Gustus reached the village from where he camped as they prepared to leave. When they told him that the leader had delayed their journey, Gustus looked ready to kill.

Only the man being their guide saved him.

Now it was just Anya, Gustus (who insisted on coming), and three or so scouts making their way through a rocky path. Their guide turned and weaved, following unseen markers to their destination. Without him, it may have taken their scouts days to find this path.

"When we reach the cave," the man who refused to give his name broke their long-held silence. "You will take the commander and go."

"You already have my word," Anya reminded him. "No harm will come to your healer."

"She will not be there," at Anya's confused face he continued. "Many from our village have walked this path. Gone to the cave to offer our thanks and our lives. Every time, she hides, waiting for us to leave."

…

What sort of strange woman was Lexa with?

* * *

Returning to the world, Lexa felt the bandage on her arm slowly unwind. The hands tending to her were careful, well trained too. Lexa barely had to put any effort into feigning sleep.

Soft humming filled the cave. The sweat melody coaxed Lexa back towards the void. Combined with the light caresses of her skin, Lexa struggled more to keep conscious than to suppress the occasional twitch of pain.

Risking a glance through her eyelashes, Lexa let out a gasp that went thankfully unnoticed.

Light caught the girl's hair, shining like sunlight from the dawn. Her eyes were the sky, distant yet unattainably divine. The smile on her face was soft as the heavens' most delicate clouds, making Lexa want to just lay there; lest she blow away this angel with the lightest breeze.

Distracted as she was, Lexa gave a surprised grunt as something pressed against her injury. That's when the goddess noticed Lexa was now awake.

A flash of pure horror passed through the girl's face, settling on a look of heart reaching fear as she stared wide-eyed at Lexa.

"Y-y-you're awak-ke," gone was the girl's melody, replaced with a trembling, fragile thing. "I'll… I'll l-leave you to rest," the angel rushed her words, pulling back quickly.

"Wai-" instinctually, Lexa grabbed the girl's arm, only to let go as a scream Peirce's her ears.

Still crying out, the woman tumbled away from Lexa's bedside, crashing into a table as she hastily retreated. Glasses shattered, vials spilling their contents as the woman ran from the cave.

Looking at the entrance, Lexa couldn't quite understand why she got that reaction but pushed those feelings aside. With a deep breath, Lexa strained herself upright, not liking how much effort it took.

But she had to move.

Who knows where she was, all Lexa knew was she wasn't where she needed to be. She wasn't with her people.

Grunting, Lexa started to get up, struggling with every small moment only for a shadow to catch her eyes at the entrance.

Storming towards her, Lexa couldn't raise her arms as a hand slammed into her throat. All the effort to get upright now wasted as she was pinned to the makeshift bed, unable to breathe.

Squirming, trying to make space for her throat, Lexa looked up to see an Iron mask, two dull blue eyes staring down at her with leashed fury.

Briefly, Lexa's hands struggled for something, anything, but found no purchase, not even adrenaline helping her damaged muscles. When she did finally still, met the strangers gaze unflinchingly, not willing to show weakness at the end.

Even with her heartbeat in her ears, Lexa could have sworn she heard a scoff, belittling her efforts as the stranger loosened her grip.

"Don't. Do. That. Again." The stranger ground out, each word still chillingly neutral despite her hand barely allowing Lexa to breathe. "Understand, idiot?"

Still attempting to be composed, Lexa gave a single nod, her lungs thanking her as the stranger's hand let go of her windpipe. Sucking in lungfuls of air, Lexa gingerly rubbed her throat, never turning her eyes away from her attacker.

The masked woman was surveying the damage to her cave, kicking broken vials that the blonde woman had sent flying in a panic.

"Great," the masked woman grumbled kicking another piece of shattered glass. "She'll be crying all day because of you, Idiot. And who do you think has to clean all of this up, Idiot? Such an ungrateful Idi-"

"I have a name," Lexa interrupted, voice hoarse.

"I don't care," her host waved off. "All of Clarke's pets have names. I haven't learned any of them before, why would I want to know the one who sent her crying from her HOME."

The woman was above Lexa now, her eyes boring down into her, making the commander wish she had the strength to sweep the woman's legs out from under her. For a long moment, they traded silent stares, Lexa not willing to break from her pride despite the overwhelming disadvantage.

"Give me your arm," the woman ordered, this time Lexa unmistakably heard the scoff.

"Why?" Lexa knew the woman would just take her arm if she resisted, but if the woman saw these acts of rebellion, she'll underestimate latter ones.

"Because someone needs to bandage it, Idiot," the condescension was thick enough to cut. "And you scared away the nice girl. Now, ARM."

Lexa didn't resist this time but did watch the masked woman for every movement. While Clarke had been soft, eager to prevent any possible pain to Lexa, the masked woman's actions were all measured. Every effort was precise, efficient, and uncaring of how much pain it caused Lexa.

"So what do I call you?" Lexa asked, trying to get her mind her pained arm as it was bandaged.

"Why would you need to call me anything?" the woman replied, tying the bandages tight. Though Lexa couldn't see it under the mask, she could have sword the sadist was smirking as she winced.

"Would you rather I make up a name for you, Mask?"

"Mask…" the woman grunted. "Mask will do."

Frowning at the lack of new information, Lexa watched Mask as she started picking up glass shards, piling them on an unbroken table.

"What are you planning to do with me?" Lexa asked, keeping Mask distracted as she sat up.

"We're going to torture you for information then kill you slowly and painfully."

…

"You're… joking," Lexa could tell from the tone, but why joke about that?

"Wow," Mask gave a slow clap. "You figured it out! What gave me away? Was it the fact I'm not torturing you right now, or the fact I don't care about anything that comes out of your mouth?"

"Do you always try to annoy your captives?" Lexa bit back.

"I'm not trying," Mask waved off, finishing her task. "And to answer your question, so you'll shut up, I'll even tell you what's going to happen in terms an idiot like you can understand." Mask either deliberately ignored the growl from Lexa's throat or didn't bother to notice it. "When your well enough, we will drag you down to the village, then take immense satisfaction as you crawl back to civilisation."

A beat passed. Then another before Lexa realised her masked captor finished explaining.

"I'm well enough now," Lexa claimed, not flinching as mask tilted her head at her.

"You're stuff is in the corner," Mask gestured to a pile of clean clothing, mixed with Lexa's possessions. "Take it and feel free to leave whenever you want."

Mask leant against the far wall, impassively watching Lexa. Once Lexa was sure her captor wasn't going to dash across the room and strangle her again, she slowly and painfully made her way to her feet.

Glancing at Mask, Lexa took the first step, unable to hide her wince, but Mask made no move. The next step had Lexa's breath hitch. By the fifth step, sweat poured down her face, her breathing laboured. Reaching the pile of clothes her captor was forgotten, every muscle straining to keep her upright as she reached down and they all failed.

Before Lexa could even hit the ground, strong arms wrapped around her, holding her precisely in a way that didn't strain Lexa's bandages. Hazy, Lexa felt herself be carried back to the bed.

Strange, Lexa didn't even hear her move.

"You said I could leave," Lexa gasped out, looking up at Mask's unreadable iron face.

"You can leave when your well enough, Idiot," Mask admonished, but there was a hint of… something else in her voice. Something Lexa was too tired to identify. "Considering you just collapsed from walking across a cave, do you think you can trek downhill? You'd fall over. Then we'd have to drag you back up here, Clarke would have to patch you up again, then she'd cry…"

"Why did she cry before?" Lexa couldn't help but have her exhausted mind turn to the angel from before. "All I did was touch her arm. She seemed… terrified."

Lexa's initial reply was just a long stare from Mask, her head tilting ever so slightly in what seemed like thought.

"When I drag you out of here," Mask started, stating everything as a certainty. "You will return to your people, Clarke, myself, the others we'll stay here… And you will never touch her again. Ever. Clarke is my charge, I won't allow her pets to bite, even if I have to put them down."

The air stilled. Despite her condition, Lexa's eyes sharpened, meeting the gaze of her custodian. Then she nodded.

"When will you let me leave?"

"At the rate you're healing, tomorrow, the day after if you pull your stitches." Mask saw Lexa's brow crease, rolling her eyes at Clarke's childish pet. "It should be longer, at least two weeks, but your healing freakishly fast. Probably because of your weird black blood."

"The night blood is sacred," Lexa replied, parroting her teacher Titus, even copying his glare.

"Wow," Mask twisted her head at Lexa. "It is amazing how little I care about what comes out of your mouth. Now rest up, Idiot."

Glowering, Lexa reluctantly accented, closing her eyes as Mask tried to repair her table. Hopefully, Anya wouldn't burn the forest down looking for her if it was just a day."

* * *

"We're nearly there," their guide called back as they weaved through the hidden path.

As much as it hurt Anya to admit it, the village chief guiding them was somewhat capable. He never attempted to slow their party or delay them from their goal. Still though, Gustus didn't seem to appreciate it if his twitching sword hand was any indication.

Turning another winding corner, a war cry sounded out, their guide quickly falling as a frothing man wrestled with him, desperately trying to sink his knife into the chief's neck. The desperate struggle ended as Gustus threw the attacker from their guide, delivering one harsh slash to decapitate the knifeman.

Quickly standing, their guide nodded to Gustus, the whole group relaxing until they noticed who their attacker was.

"Reapers…" Anya whispered, the realisation echoing through the group.

Wide-eyed, their guide swung his head around, looking up the path. Drawing his sword, an action mimicked by the rest of his group, he started sprinting into the brush. Without a word, Anya's group followed, hoping they'd reach their commander before these animals did.

Unfortunately, the mountain's monsters were already descending upon the home of Lexa's saviour, neither aware until it was too late.


End file.
